Fallen
by justintimberflakesforbreakfast
Summary: Ava Murphy (OC) wakes up to a massive crash in her kitchen. Upon further inspection, it appears that everyone's favourite (except Odin's) god of mischief has fallen through her roof, not in the best shape and with his mouth sewn shut. Bad!Odin, stupid Thor. Loki and Ava will not be shipped, just Brotp'd because it's my fic and I do what I want.
1. Chapter 1

I stumbled into my bedroom, throwing my bag and myself onto the bed, fully clothed. I hadn't been looking forward to the massive workload that medical school would bring, and now it was upon me with full force. I was so tired, and it was only Tuesday.

Deciding to at least get comfortable, I changed into pyjamas and collapsed on the bed again. Almost immediately, sleep grabbed me and pulled me into blackness.

I had a nightmare tonight. I don't know where it came from or what it was about, but the only thing I can remember is blood and horrible screaming. Eventually, the screaming woke me up in a cold sweat, tears running down my face. The dreams were so vivid, but I can remember barely any of them afterwards. At the very end, a gut wrenching weightlessness had attacked me before she returned to consciousness, as though I'd been cast off of something very high, or was going down a water slide. I sat in bed for about five minutes, the covers twisted around me in knots, breathing heavily and trying to stop the random tears. The screaming had been the worst. It echoes in my head, refusing to leave and haunting me in my dark bedroom.

Suddenly I couldn't bare it and went to wrench off the covers, but a huge crash from the kitchen made me freeze. Nothing could have made that noise unless it weighed a ton or was falling very, very fast. Carefully grabbing the baseball bat from behind my bed head, I creeped down the hallway and into my mum's perfect kitchen. Mum and dad were touring Europe, so I was housesitting. I stopped short. The ceiling and some twisted pieces of corrugated iron were in a massive pile on the floor. The whole lot was smoking, and the smell of burning plastic permeated the air.

Suddenly, I heard a low, muffled groan. I shuffled toward the pile and poked a hot, smoking piece of iron out of the way with my bat, and gasped at what it revealed.

There was a person! And actual, living person had fallen through the roof into the kitchen. After the initial shock passed, I took a closer look at him and felt bile rise in my throat. The guy was covered in blood. What you could see of him under the red was purple, black and yellow with bruising, and I could count his ribs easily. The only clothes he had were some leather pants that were cut like jeans, but you could barely tell because they were torn and cut in various places. My eyes moved to his face. His nose looked broken, and his mouth- I took another look at his mouth and ran to the sink.

I leaned over the cold steel of the kitchen sink for five whole minutes, throwing up the entire contents of my stomach and continued heaving for ages. Wiping my eyes and mouth, I took a deep breath and approached the man again, steeling myself against the churning of my gut. Peering at his face, I let a gasp of horror escape me.

The guy's mouth had been sewn shut with narrow, rough leather strips. That was where most of the blood was coming from. His whole lower jaw was covered in thick red, brown or black blood and his jaw and neck muscles looked tense, clenched in pain, probably. He was taking faint breaths through his nose, his thin, blood-slick chest heaving up and down with the effort. After taking a few more breaths, I picked my way across the kitchen and to the drawers. I was pretty sure mum kept some chicken shears in there, and I wasn't sure if anything else could cut through that horrible leather.

As I walked around the wreck with the chicken shears, the guy started breathing faster. He'd opened his eyes. They were full of madness and fear and I wondered what possibly could've happened to him. He stared at me as I came closer, looking terrified and vulnerable, and at the sharp instrument in my right hand.  
"I'm not going to hurt you," I tried to reassure him, but I don't think he believed me.  
Slowly, I knelt down beside him and slowly brought the shears closer to him. The man started to panic, hyperventilating through his nose and the tiny amount of space he could make by forcing his lips apart.

Not bothering to calm him, I snipped the first piece of leather carefully, then the next and the next. Soon, half his mouth was free, the horrible bits of leather sticking out of his skin. He tried to breathe through the gap, but winced and let a whimper escape him before closing it again. I kept cutting at the leather until there was one left, then cut that too. The person's mouth opened and he took about five desperate breaths before resuming his nose breathing with another whimper.

"Who are you, and how the hell did you get here?" I asked him, and waiting patiently for 5 minutes for him to look up at me. "My name is Loki of Jötunheimr. Who are you? Are you not just some foul apparition of Odin's?" He spat the last word, as though it left a bad taste. His voice was rough with disuse, but I could tell that usually it was smooth and deep, perfect for lying. "Some beautiful maiden to relieve my pain, only to wake up and have it back? The Allfather needs more originality."

I laughed at that last sentence. "I am not a foul apparition, I can assure you. I am a beautiful maiden, though." I smiled gently at him. "You landed in my kitchen. Who did this to you? You look horrible... Just sayin'."  
"I... I cannot talk of it currently. Now if you'll excuse me, I should be leaving you... I wish not to bring about Odin's wrath for aiding me." He moved to sit up, but I pressed a hand onto his chest, holding him down forcefully. "You, mister, are not going anywhere. Your mouth will get infected, and you need rest! I don't know how the hell you managed to smash through iron and drywall, but it had to have hurt. Besides, your arm is broken." I indicated the just-noticed injury. "No. You're going to get on the couch and sleep. I don't care what you think."

Loki looked shocked. "You dare speak like that to me?"  
"You bet I do. Now sit up a bit."  
He complied, and I grabbed him under the armpits with a grunt- for someone so skinny, he weighed a lot- and half-carried him to the living room. I helped him onto the couch while he grunted in pain. Then I got tweezers and finally removed the last bits of ghastly leather from his lips and dabbed them with antiseptic. When I was done, Loki growled. "That hurt."  
"It was that or keep your mouth shut. Go to sleep, I'll see you in the morning. And if I find out you've slunk off, I'll track you down. You're not well, Loki. Night."

I slowly walked through the hallway to my bedroom. Could he possibly be the actual Loki Laufeyson? I'd read about him... But the guy had just had a truly _massive_ fall. He might have been delusional. But something in his eyes told me that he wasn't. And he wasn't lying, either.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I didn't really expect this to get noticed :3 but I've had a couple reviews, which was cool. My school is getting close to the holidays, so I should have a bit more time to write. I will try not to make Ava into a Mary Sue, but she's my first major OC, so I'll see how it goes. Also, I've been told I flip between past and present tense sometimes, I'll work on it but it's not really that major... I guess...

A/N 2: I know Ava's personality changed a couple of times in the last chapter, but remember she's just been woken in the middle of the night by a person falling through her roof, mouth sewn shut and claiming to be the guy that trashed New York. Cut her (*cough*me*cough) some slack XD... Enjoy and sorry for long boring note, ugh.

* * *

**_~*~*RANDOM BORING FILL-IN CHAPTER*~*~_**

* * *

I woke up to sunlight streaming though the window and hitting me across the eyes. Squinting, I groaned and pulled the duvet up over my head, prepared to lay in bed for at least half the day, as is my normal Saturday custom. Then I rolled over again and sniffed. Why did I smell blood? I glanced down at my clothes from yesterday, which were stained with black dried blood. My first reaction was panic- what the hell had happened?- until I remembered the possibly-celestial being currently stationed on my couch.

'It couldn't have been a dream,' I thought as I rolled out of bed and onto the floor. 'I'm still covered in blood, and-' I gagged- 'I've got bits of leather stuck everywhere.' I groaned and picked myself up. I decided I had better be cleaned up before I confronted Loki, I'd probably freak him out if I came in still covered in his blood.

I came out of the bathroom 20 minutes later, my dark hair dripping all over the carpet. After struggling with some jeans for a couple of minutes- I came out the victor of the Pants Dance Championships this time- I pulled on an old oatmeal knit sweater that smelled a bit weird- sweet, but also musty- but whatever, I was only going to talk to the person who fell through my roof last night.

Finally getting over the morning floppiness, I arrived in the living room and gave a startled yelp. Instead of the emaciated person I was expecting to be on the sofa, a 5 metre long, dark green snake lounged over the arm and coiled three times over. I stared in mild panic, my breathing heavy, and reached for the phone to call some sort of animal control, backing into the hall as I did, but suddenly the snake's form rippled, shortened and reformed into Loki's long, thin form, which was sprawled over the arm of the chair, broken arm resting on his chest.

Why the hell had I let him sleep with a broken arm? What was I even thinking last night?! I was supposed to be studying medicine, dammit. I realised I was staring at him and looked away, as he was trying to look bemusedly down his nose at me from his position on the couch.  
"Morning..." Damn, what did you say to people that fell through your ceiling? "Um... Listen... I think I should take you down to the hospital. Your arm looks freaky, and your lips will scar really badly unless they're treated properly-"

"No."  
"I'm sorry? You need to! Why not?" I asked indignantly; the guy was _r00d_ with two zeros.

Loki grunted as he wriggled slightly more upright against the arm of the chair. "Last night, I managed to place some wards around this house so that Heimdall cannot find me. Unfortunately, I have just enough magical power left to shapeshift, but that is all until it comes back, which could take days, weeks or months. I cannot leave this house until I have my power back."

I blinked. he really could do magic. He really was Loki Laufeyson, the crazy god who'd destroyed New York. Right now, however, he didn't look that threatening. Suddenly I took a breath. "I suppose I'll have to try and patch you up here then," I told him with a grimace. "I think that I might have some plaster stuff for your arm, and I think some of your cuts need stitches-" I paused as his breath caught and panic clouded his face before it was pushed back down. "Loki?" Realisation overtook me. "Oh... I promise it won't hurt like that this time. It won't be like that. Less than a fraction of, well, that. Trust me, alright?"

Loki attempted to glare at me, but only resulted in looking like a scared, kicked puppy. "I am fine, mortal. You need not baby me."  
"If you're going to be like that-"  
"Alright!"

"Well, anyway, you're going to need stitches, and I think a few of your ribs are cracked, judging from the bruising... And I have absolutely no idea what to do about your lips."  
"Hmph. I could most likely heal whatever damage your blundering Midgardian medicines have done when I have more power. For now, I think the only thing to do is to see how it goes."

* * *

YET ANOTHER A/N: UGH I'M SO SORRY FOR THE BORING CHAPTER I HATE IT BUT SHE WILL BE TREATING LOKI IN THE NEXT CHAPTER AND HE'S A SULKY LITTLE SHIT...

DEAR LOKI: MIDGARDIAN MEDICINE HAS NO MAGIC, BUT QUITE A BIT OF PAIN.


End file.
